Yours to Take, to Keep or Break
by a. loquita
Summary: The idea of them moving in together was just something he was playing with in the back of his mind, not yet ready to position it for her to think about. Then he went and slipped up. Castle/Beckett, one-shot, no spoilers, future fic.


Yours to Take, to Keep or Break  
Pairing: Castle/Beckett  
Spoilers: None  
A/N: Special thanks to mrspollifax for her beta work

* * *

Kate Beckett likes living alone, even though it hasn't always been easy to do on a cop's salary. Especially in the early years, the temptation to split rent with a roommate was a strong pull. But she likes living alone. For a lot of reasons, including the example she points out to Castle – that she can walk around naked in her living room if she so desires. Which is probably not the headlining example she should have given him. In retrospect, she ought to have predicted what his response would be.

"You are perfectly welcome to walk around my living room naked any time you want to."

She tries not to laugh and instead replies, "I'm sure Martha and Alexis wouldn't mind at all."

"Alexis isn't around much anymore. And as for my mother, we could always change the locks on her. I'm totally fine with that."

Sure he is. Then the silly conversation alters course for a moment. "Just think about it," he adds.

That's when she realizes he fully expects her to turn him down, or at least put him off. It stings, mainly because it's exactly what she was going to do.

They've only been together a handful of months and have been keeping their relationship off other people's radar for the most part. And besides, his "move in with me" comment was off the cuff. He made it while they were walking along the sidewalk while Castle teased her about how impressed he was that she caught his obscure Star Wars reference back there in the coffee shop. And it came out of his mouth out of nowhere. He didn't even mean it.

The offer to move in with him, that is.

Did he?

Castle opens the front door of the precinct and holds it for her.

* * *

Rick holds the door and doesn't miss the shadow of something cross her expression before it's hidden away, the mask of her work persona shifting firmly back into place. He'd pushed her, and even though he played it off and she went along, they both know it. He's pushing her.

He knows that he should feel sorry about that, but he's not. Pushing her is what he's been doing all along, since they first started this thing between them, maybe even before that. It's an important element of his role. If he doesn't do it, if he's not _that guy_, then she'd still be that version of herself from years ago, the one holding all the cards to her chest and thinking that she's bluffing her way through this poker game with aplomb.

Doesn't mean he likes being the one to push. Not always.

As he follows her out of the elevator and into the bustle of the squad room she's all business. And he understands, he really does, because he'd not even intended to bring it up today. The idea of them moving in together was just something he was playing with in the back of his mind, not yet ready to position it for her to think about. Then he went and slipped up.

And now she's going to pretend it didn't happen, or if he brings it up again, she'll brush it off. It's too soon, Castle. We'll talk about it when it's time. We don't want to rush this.

All very levelheaded responses; that's what she'll give him, because that's her role. He should just let this be for now.

Why is it that most men would be more than happy with a hot Kate Beckett tearing at his clothes and pushing her tongue in his mouth every chance that she got, and he's… Well.

He's not most men, he's happy with that, but he wants it all. The tiptoe act he's been playing for more months, more years, than he cares to count is all about how much he can push toward everything he wants and that he knows deep down she wants too. But also how fast to go all in, without pushing her away?

He's pretty good at poker too.

* * *

They're interviewing the victim's sister and when the young lady says, "It's the only place that I know she felt safe," Kate's mind starts to wander. That never happens during interviews or interrogations unless somehow Castle's involved. His ability to distract her is his secret superhero power, she's sure of it. Because she used to be such a focused person, but Castle can divert her attention without even trying. And it's only gotten worse since they began sharing a bed.

She likes the sharing the bed part, but there are other, much more important things to consider. Like where would she even put her stuff? Are there closets in his loft that she doesn't know about?

Wait, no, she tells herself. She's not going there. This is a big decision, one that they should probably discuss at great length and consider the implications of before jumping ahead of themselves. They probably aren't even ready. She likes to have her space and…

"Beckett?" Castle asks.

"What?"

"Were you even listening to that last part?"

Right. The victim's sister and something about a delivery guy? "I'm sorry, my mind must have been on another avenue of the investigation there for a moment. Can you repeat what you said about the delivery guy?"

The woman is happy to go back over the information again; Kate doesn't miss the puzzled look Castle gives her.

* * *

Kate takes a five-minute break while Ryan and Esposito continue following the Internet search history of the victim. They are attempting to discover how the online purchases the victim's sister and husband said were unusual in the last few weeks might be related to the murder.

In the break room, Kate pours herself a cup of coffee. Then she almost spills it when Castle appears behind her and she jumps.

"Castle, what the hell?"

"Sorry."

She uses a paper towel to wipe off of her hand. His lips hover near her ear as he leans in and his chest presses against her back. "You know the rules," she reminds.

She starts to move away but finds she's got nowhere to go. Between the countertop and his body, and his hands with their hold on her, she's boxed in. Her exits are blocked, and he's done it on purpose.

"Castle." Annoyed, sure. But damn if she's not a little bit turned on right now.

"You're thinking about it, aren't you?" He sounds inordinately pleased, mostly with himself. And she's not sure if it's more about the fact that he's figured it out, that he can read her this well, or that he might convince her to move in with him. All of the above, probably. Castle's an "all of the above" kind of guy when it comes to just about anything in life, but she's learning it's magnified when it involves her.

"It's not fair springing it on me like that." She shakes her head. "Especially here."

"I know." His hands loosen, and she takes the opportunity to turn and face him. "Believe me, that's not how I planned it. I had a whole plan, well, I was working on one."

"A plan, huh?" she asks. "So, not a spur of the moment thing then?"

"Definitely not."

"And you don't think it's too soon?" She can't seem to get past that question most of all.

He smiles a little, it's not quite his mischievous little boy smile, but it's on its way there. Like he predicted that would be her very first question. "Definitely not."

Well. There's that at least.

* * *

They're back at her desk when Rick asks her, "So, tonight?"

Beckett looks around and nearly hisses at him. "Castle."

"What?"

She's being silly; he'd already made sure nobody in the bullpen was close enough to hear them. It's his new favorite game, testing the boundaries of how far he can get with the "no funny stuff at work" rule.

As if he were capable of pretending that his feelings for her were completely platonic before. Now that they're not pretending, what does she honestly expect? He used to do more open flirting with her in a single day than he does over the course of a week lately. Somehow he still manages to land himself in the doghouse. But here's the thing she doesn't know. The challenge of getting himself out of the doghouse and back into her pants is the fun part. He relishes it, not that he's ever going to tell her.

He says, "It was just a question."

The boys interrupt. "The vic's husband lied to us."

Beckett swings her head to them and Ryan continues. "The marriage was on the rocks."

Esposito picks up the narrative. "They applied to appear on a reality TV show recently. It's for couples who were having trouble." He turns toward Castle before finishing. "The show's called '7 Nights of Love' and the couples are supposed to rekindle their relationship by getting their freak on every night for a week."

"Nice." Beckett's voice is flat. "Let me guess, a guy came up with that concept."

Castle can't resist, even though he knows that he'll pay for it later. "Not necessarily. I mean, some women are so insatiable that they…" The look she gives him would make the devil think twice about finishing that thought. "Not relevant."

"Let's bring the husband back in," Beckett says to the guys.

* * *

Castle is in rare form today, and Kate's not sure if she wants to groan or chuckle. A little of both, she supposes. In the last 24 hours the case has taken a bizarre turn and they're interviewing contestants and producers of this ridiculous reality show. Castle knows too much, that's the problem. He knows that the two of them could easily take this stupid competition by storm and win it.

God, isn't that embarrassing?

She's been like a smoker or a drinker, each day telling herself that today is the day she'll quit. Even for a short time, just to prove to herself that she can. She's not an addict. She doesn't _need_ it. Until evening comes and she's so very tempted, tries to talk herself out of it and fails. OK, just one more night, she promises herself. Tomorrow will be the day she takes a break.

That's when she turns up at Castle's loft. Again.

It really is embarrassing. She used to stay with a boyfriend a couple of times a week, taking nights off here and there to do her own thing or have some quiet time. She's always been a person who values her space. But maybe, since she's at his place, or he's at hers practically every night anyway, it makes sense to move in? Has Castle actually gotten her thinking about this now?

"Then on night three, well, that's the sex toy night and…"

"Whoa." Castle cuts off the latest contestant they are interviewing. "OK, Mrs. Jenkins, I think that's enough for now. Thank you."

Kate glances at him. Yeah, he's enjoying this just a little too much.

Each and every couple on this stupid show varies in age, how long they've been married, profession, ethnicity, but they all say the same thing. Over time, their relationship withered and died. It used to be fun and they couldn't keep their hands off of each other and then one day it started to slow down, they grew apart, and before they knew it there was no spark anymore.

Kate has to look away from Castle.

* * *

They're at an impasse. Kate's got the husband in the box, but she can't break him.

He reiterates, "Look, we may have been having some problems, but I loved my wife."

Esposito and Ryan have exhausted all avenues, and the only thing that they've got is a little bit of circumstantial evidence. This entire case has Kate itchy, and she just wants to be done with it.

Castle's been quiet since they entered interrogation, but now he speaks up. "You weren't having sex with your wife."

The bluntness of it catches the suspect by surprise. "That's right. But that's not—"

"So who were you having sex with?"

Kate's surprised by this; there's been no hint that the husband was having an affair.

Castle keeps going. "Look, if you're truly innocent, then give us a better lead. You're all we've got right now."

"I don't… I wasn't…" The physical tells are there to lead Kate to conclude that the suspect is rattled, so she stays silent. It's a signal to Castle to continue what he's doing.

"Come on," Castle eggs him on. "A man's not getting what he wants at home, he's lonely, and he has needs. He goes and finds it somewhere else."

"Maybe some men."

"Are you so sure that the woman you were having an affair with didn't know that you were married? Are you positive that she couldn't have found out and gone after your wife?"

"Marianne would never…" The husband stops, perhaps realizing his own blunder. But he also looks as if he's having doubts, as if this entire thing is crumbling around him. "Oh god, could Marianne have done this?"

Kate leans back in her chair and rubs her temples. Ain't love grand?

* * *

Rick gave Beckett an hour. They'd wrapped the case, sent Marianne down to booking, and each left their separate ways. He knows she's inside her apartment brooding.

The case would've gotten to him, too, if he were the nervous one in this partnership. He's too old to second-guess this thing they have, too young to dwell on what ifs, and too confident in his love to worry.

Rick knocks on her door. He can picture her on the other side, hand on the knob, debating whether she really wants to open it. He trusts that she will.

"Hi," Beckett says, swinging the door wide, deliberately putting a smile on her face. "Want to come in?"

"No."

Her eyebrows shoot north. "No?"

Rick likes when he throws her off. It keeps her on her toes, and tonight that's exactly what he has planned. "Get your coat."

* * *

A short time later, they arrive at an old pool hall that's been converted into a community center. That earns him another skeptical look from Beckett. Inside, there's a band on the stage, tables clustered around a dance floor in the center of the room, and a side table offering plates of cookies and a big punch bowl. The banner over the stage announces that it's "Victory Day."

The only thing that stands out as a little unusual, besides the throwback décor, is that everyone inside appears to be on social security. Couples are dancing, some despite needing a walker, while others are in groups around the tables. They all have gotten dressed up for the occasion, but with far more comfortable shoes than Beckett is wearing.

"Come on," Rick tugs her arm.

They meet Selma and David, married 46 years and moving to Florida in a couple of weeks. Terry and Jerry have been together for 37 years and have 3 kids, 10 grandkids, and their first great-grandchild is due in a few months. Howard lost his dear, sweet Alice last year to cancer, but they shared over 5 decades of memories and happiness.

Castle leads Kate onto the dance floor and into his arms. They begin to sway together to 'Be Careful, It's my Heart.'

"How did you know?" she asks.

Castle squeezes her hand, the one that he's got tucked against his chest. "I know you."

"I know you too, but that doesn't mean—"

"I could see it. You needed to be reminded of the other kind of ending."

"Why are you so sure?" she asks quietly. It's something she's wanted to ask for a while and hadn't worked up the courage. Here, surrounded by what their future could be, seems like the right place and time.

"I don't know." He shrugs a little. "Maybe because I've been there before. I know what it's like at the start of relationships and marriages that don't work out, and I know this time it's different. I know that we have far more in common with people here tonight than anyone we met on that reality TV show."

She has to agree with that part. Though Kate notes this is the first time the "M" word has come up between them, she's not panicking. With him, it seems natural that it be part of the conversation in a "someday" kind of way. It's still new, but there's no doubt where they both think this could be going.

Is going, she mentally edits. Maybe she should start having a least half as much faith as he does.

"Maybe," he says, pulling back enough to be able to look into her eyes. "Maybe because I believe in us. Always have."

"So, we'll be here in 50 years? Dancing and looking back on our memories together?"

"Sure." He smirks. "If you don't kill me first with all the sex."

She laughs. She can't help it. "Just for the record, I'm not trying to break you."

Castle leans in to steal a kiss on the lips, and like every time before, it settles her. Perhaps that's why she's been clinging to that aspect of their relationship so far.

She trails light kisses across his jaw and down his neck where she rests her head on his shoulder. The music segues into another slow song, one that Kate doesn't recognize but seems to be a favorite among the crowd because many of them begin making their way onto the dance floor.

Kate catches sight of 80-something-year-old Jerry giving Castle two encouraging thumbs up, and she can't help but smile.

This honeymoon phase they're in, it's a phase that all of these seniors were once in themselves when they were young. Where they ended up is even better. Maybe she and Castle are going to be just fine, if she would stop worrying and enjoy the moment.

"You'll help me pack up boxes?" she asks.

"And hire people to do the heavy lifting."

Her head is still on his shoulder so he won't see her smile, but she's sure he knows anyway.

Castle spins her suddenly and dips her low. The gasps from the crowd around them are probably equal parts impressed, and thinking about their own arthritic knees.

"Doing that while I still can," he says as he draws her upright again.

"Don't worry, Castle. I'll still dance with you when you need a walker."

She intends on keeping that promise.


End file.
